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P. W. GIBSON' 


































































Copyright, 1904, 
by P. W. Gibson. 


Murray Bros., Printers, 
Alexandf'ia, Va . 













rC^SYnf CONGRESS 
Two Contes Received 

SEP 1 1904 

Copyright Entry 
10 - 1 ^ 0 ^ 



?S 3^13 



/ * 413 


A 


To 

My Mother 







PREFACE. 


In offering the following poems to the public, 
it would, perhaps, be expedient to mention, that 
the desire to write brilliant verses has been sub¬ 
ordinated to the desire of maintaining a consist¬ 
ency with clearness. 

The criticism, pro et con , with which all enter¬ 
prises invariably meet, is too well understood to 
warrant anything in the way of a special appeal 
for this humble enterprise. 

Yet, while there has been no attempt to imi¬ 
tate the lofty style and precision which charac¬ 
terise the works of the greatest writers, it is hoped 
that those who peruse this little volume, will aim 
at least, to realize the author’s honest endeavor 
to convey moral precepts through the medium of 
plain verses. 


Middleburg, Va., 
May, 1904. 


P. W. GIBSON 






















• ■ 


. 


















CONTENTS. 


I. 

Progress of the Afro-American 

II. 

Ode to Frederick Douglass. 

III. 

Envy. 

IV. 

Fame. 

V. 

The Dovers’ Peril. 

VI. 

Praise. 

VII. 

Rough Riders’ Relief. 

VIII. 

Conscience. 

IX. 

Ode to Booker T. Washington. 

X. 

De Sun Do Move. 

XI. 

The Egyptian Sphinx. 

XII. 

Friendship. 

XIII. 

High Toned Sal. 

XIV. 

Too Many Cloes. 

XV. 

Udder Peoples’ Troubles. 

XVI. 

The Dying Cavalier. 

XVII. 

’Splain Me Dat. 

XVIII. 

Civil Rights. 

XIX. 

Adversity. 

XX. 

De Millon Patch. 

XXI. 

Ingratitude. 

XXII. 

The Fox and The Grapes. 

XXIII. 

The Auction Block. 

XXIV. 

The Traveler’s Return. 









I 


Progress of the Afro-American. 

Across the dark Atlantic waves 
A vessel sailed from Africa’s shore, 

Bearing twenty stalwart slaves 
To toil at Jamestown years ago. 

Torn from the land where they were free, 
Severed from friends and kindred dear, 

They were deprived of liberty, 

And taught the master’s lash to fear. 

No books were to the slaves allowed, 

That they might learn to read and write. 

Covered were they by ignorance’s cloud, 
Without a gleam their way to light. 

Many long years their doom was cast 
To toil in slavery’s direful chains, 

To fell the oak in the wintry blast, 

To raise the cotton on Georgia’s plains. 

At last the noble Lincoln came 

To bid their galling bondage cease; 

Freedom to all he did proclaim, 

And slaves rejoiced at dawn of peace. 


Set free with naught save brawny arms, 

To battle for life as men imbued. 

With iron will to brave the storms 

Which check them in each course pursued 

In a few short years the the race has come 
Up civilization’s height sublime, 

Which took great Carthage, Greece, and Rome 
Long centuries of toil to climb. 

Then colored youth be not dismayed; 

If high in life you’d carve your name, 

In the armor of Douglass be arrayed, 

And climb the lofty ladder of fame. 


II 


Ode to Frederick Douglass. 

On diz/y height of gorgeous fame, 

Where each immortal deed reclines 

In the zenith like a radiant star, 

The name of Frederick Douglass shines. 

Born unlike a regnant prince 

Whose hours are passed in sweet content; 

Amid wild scenes on a planter’s farm, 

His early childhood days were spent. 

Indisposed to spend his life 

With slavish gyves upon his hands, 

He freed himself; went to the North, 

And dropped forever his iron bands. 

Endowed with a bold aspiring will, 

Which servile bonds could not subdue; 

His aim was fixed on noble deeds, 

O’er paths which great heroes pursue. 

O’er all the land his voice was heard 

Pleading for humble slave-cursed men— 

Pleading that Freedom’s holy light 
Might on his helpless race descend. 


Then let the name of that great chief. 
Be praised on every sea and land; 
For Frederick Douglass was indeed 
A noble, grand, immortal man. 


III. 


Envy. 

In trablin’ ’long life’s weary road, 
You’s moughty apt ter find 

Dat when you strikes er stream er luck, 
It meks some soul repine. 

When in de frong you shakes de hand 
Ob de charmin’ belle you meets, 

Somebody ’hime you’ll want you blood 
Fer treadin’ on him feets. 

De mo’ you steps from right ter lef 
Ter gib him room an’ a’r, 

De mo’ he wanter stop you bref— 

His corns is ebry whar. 

An’ eben wid money which is y’own, 

Er good ole ham you buy; 

He gibs you dagger glances 
Out de corner ub his eye. 

He seems ter carry mortal pain 
Ebry whar he goes, 

’Cuz he cain eat up all de grub, 

An’ w’ar out all de does. 


When de groun ’ is full ub snow 
Dats hard ter trabel fru, 

Be thankful to you nabor ef 
He breks de track fer you. 

An’ when he trabels honor’s path, 
Which am hard ter climb. 

Instid ub tryin’ ter trip him up, 

Jes foller on behime. 

An’ doan you stop ter fret and fume 
When folks gouge at you name; 

But keep er steppin’ onward, an’ 
You’ll “git dar jes de same.” 

’Cuz w’ile you’s lookin’ roun’ ter see 
Who’s fro win ’ sticks an’ stones. 

Somebody’ll win de prize who aint 
So careful ’bout dey bones. 


IV. 


Fame. 

Struggling up life’s steepest stair, 

Which only the chosen few need dare, 

The banner of right unfurling there, 

In mankind’s name. 

Stumbling, yet rising, o’er trials hard, 

By roses gladdened, by cruel thorns scarred, 
Reaping abuse, then final reward— 

And this is fame. 


V. 


The Lovers’ Peril. 

A lover and a maiden fair 

Strolled gayly down across the lea; 

The evening sky and balmy air 
Lent rapture to their ecstasy. 

The merry song birds in the trees 
Warbled forth sweet tuneful lays; 

Spring flowers rare perfumed the breeze; 
With joy all nature seemed ablaze. 

Down by the sea an idle barge, 

Gently rocked by flowing tide, 

Anchored safe by cable large, 

Tempted a trial on the waters wide. 

Soon from anchor the gallant youth 
With eager hands the boat unchaimed ; 

The lovely maiden, emblem of truth, 

Trusted his muscular arms, well-trained. 

A lurch, a splash of water gray, 

And steady strokes with pliant oar, 

With merry jest and laughter gay, 

They soon were wafted far from shore. 


The same sweet story of love each told, 
Each-vowed faithful to remain, 

Through life’s dark years of storm and cold, 
’Till death should make the final claim. 

Forgetting all save love’s sweet charm, 
Unmindful of approaching gale, 

They soon were roused by fierce alarm— 

A tempest threatened their rowboat frail ! 

Far to the west an inky cloud 

Loomed on the vision grim and drear, 
Resounding peals of thunder loud 
Filled the maiden’s heart with fear. 

The lightning flashed across the sky, 

The sea gulls screamed in mockery vile, 
The wind began a mournful sigh, 

Disturbing the sleeping water mild. 

With fiendish zeal the hero brave, 

Turned wildly back toward the land, 

To shun an awful watery grave, 

Far below the reach of man. 


His strength was vain; the tempest raged, 

The billows rolled on every side ; 

A sad unequal strife was waged 

‘Tween fragile barque and ocean wide. 

All hope was lost. The lovely maid 
Upon the floor unconscious fell— 

The sky in darkness w T as arrayed, 

The elements rang a woeful knell. 

The crew of a schooner homeward bound, 
Seeing the plight of the hapless pair, 

With speed incredible turned around 
And dashed for the spot of dark despair. 

’Twas none too soon ; the barque o’erturned 
Tossing the two on the angry surge, 

But strong arms gave the boon they yearned— 
Snatching them from eternity’s verge. 


VI. 


Praise 

Words of praise have their effect 
According to the minds they meet; 
They make the arrogant more abject 
The wise, more modest and discreet. 


VII. 


Rough Riders’ Relief. 

With martial pomp of music gay 
And banners streaming on the air, 

The bold Rough Riders pressed their wav 
Toward San Juan in Cuba fair. 

Each Rider and each prancing steed 
Alike seemed eager for the fray, 

That struggling Cubans might be freed 
From the galling curse of Spanish sway; 

That the battleship and her gallant crew, 
Which sunken by the unseen foe, 

Might be avenged with honor true, 

And to the world their mettle show. 

No sign of danger dark was seen, 

As on they marched the sun-parched road, 

When sudden from a woodland screen 
Into their ranks hot Mausers poured. 

From right and left from every side 
Merciless Spanish bullets sped; 

In vain the brave Rough Riders tried 
To rally ’mid the volleys of lead. 


Into confusion and despair 

Were the the gallant soldiers thrown; 

Sounds discordant filled the air, 

Of the musket roar and the dying groan. 

When stoutest wills began to bend, 

When all seemed doomed to sore defeat, 

The brave Ninth Cavalry of Colored men 
Rushed swiftly in to check retreat. 

New vigor fills each Rider’s soul, 

To the order “Charge!” each man responds, 
And with the colored soldiers bold, 

They charge the breastworks of the Dons. 

With deafening yell and deadly aim, 

That threw the Spaniards in dismay; 

The Ninth boys in Columbia’s name, 

Helped the Rough Riders win the day. 

Then praise the troops of dusky hue ! 

Speak not their well-earned fame to mar ! 
They’ve proven true to the red, white, and blue ; 
They’ve shown their bravery in time of war. 


VIII. 

Conscience. 

O! Conscience, man’s most trusty guide. 
Up life’s rugged mountain side; 

If he thy warnings will obey, 

Thou art a friend to cheer his way. 
But if he will thy checks disdain, 

For harmful bliss of sordid gain, 

Unto his erring soul thou’It bring 
Grim vengeance like a viper’s sting. 


IX. 


Booker T. Washington. 

In cabin rude the germ was sown, 
Where freedom was a joy unknown— 
A germ destined a race to lead— 
Humble mankind’s cause to plead. 
Thus doffing its embryo state, 

It donned the armor of the great, 
Surmounted trials dark and drear 
Impressed alike by blame and cheer. 
With purpose free from selfish gain, 
’Tis his the plighted charge to train 
The hand as well as head and heart, 
To furnish wares at rivalled mart. 
Attained has he bright honor true 
Regardless of his tawny hue— 

Yea, praised is his intrinsic worth 
By mightiest rulers of the earth. 


X. 


De Sun Do Move. 

Jes tell me how de Sun gwine rise 
Ef de Sun doan move. 

’Splain me dat you folks what’s wise: 

I know de Sun do move. 

Take your telemscopes erway; 

Doan keer what de stron’mums say; 

Ah kin see jes well as dey, 

De Sun do move. 

How de Sun git ‘cross de sky 
Kf de Sun doan ’ move ? 

Hoccum de Sun doan stay up high 
Ef de Sun doan move ? 

Ef dis here urf am er movin’ star, 

What mek dem hills keep standin ’ dar ? 
I ain seen um go nowhar, 

De Sun do move. 


XI. 


The Egyptian Sphinx. 

Oh! huge monster of lifeless stone, 
Carved by skillfull hands unknown, 
Standing untold ages past 
Guarding o’er the ruins vast, 
From thy musing rouse and tell 
How the star of Egypt fell, 
Pharaoh’s persecutions vile 
And “the serpent of the Nile.’’ 

Tell the sufferings of the Jews 
Which like panoramic views, 

With their changeble displays. 
Passed before thy tireless gaze. 
Deign to speak some potent word 
Of the knell which thou hath heard. 
Why this mute serenity? 

Can it be thou doth foresee 
Return of ancient power sublime 
To thy dark benighted clime? 


XII. 

Friendship. 

Like a mighty'bridge which spans 
The rushing river deep, 

Bearing as with giant hands 
The hosts which o’er it sweep. 
When men are bv life’s woes alarmed, 
By surging billows grasped, 

A bridge to span their care* is formed 
By hands in friendship clasped. 


/ 


XIII. 


High Toned Sal. 

Ise jes gorived fum Baltimore. 

Been visitin’ daughter Sal; 

I'dsartiny kinder laik ter know 
What’s matter wid dat gal. 

Lace curtains hangin’ to her floor. 
An ’ brusslem carpet fine— 

All dem high-toned things was sure 
Too much fer dis yer shine. 

Slick lookin’ folks wld larnin high, 
Come ’roun’ er sendin’ out 

Dey highfalutin talk which I 
Knowed nuthin’ ’tall erbout. 

De dough fer fancies Sally paid, 

De likes I neber seed; 

All dat no sense stravgans, made 
Me ’gusteded indeed. 

But w’en she put silks on her back 
An’ dimons in her ha’r, 

I picked up ma ole knapsack 
A.n’ come erway fum dar. 


Gwine ter spend de rest ma days 
At home wid Liza Jane; 

Can’t gib up fer city ways 
Ma cabin in de lane. 


XIV. 


Too Many Clo’es. 

‘ ’ Jake how you tote so many clo’es ? 

It’s ’nuff ter take you bref— 

Two coats, three pants and overalls on, 
Laik you ’fraid you friz ter def.” 

“Doan you meddle wif me ole ’oman ; 

Keep kiet laik er mouse, 

When Ise out doors in de cole 
Ma clo’es is in de house.” 


XV. 


Udder People’s Troubles. 

It’s easy ’nufFfer us ter tell 
Our frien’s dey oughtn 1 mind, 

Hrbout de many troubles dark 

W’ich ’roun dey heart-strings twine. 

We can see w’y dey griebes jes laik 
Dey hearts is ’bout ter buss ; 

But de time we gen’ly griebes is w’en 
Desd troubles come ter us. 

Den we may ’spress our sorrows fer 
De man whats got er sprain ; 

But we ain hurt not near so bad 
As him dat feels de pain. 


XVI. 


The Dying Cavalier. 

On a battle field at midnight, 

When the din of strife was o’er, 

When the brilliant beams of moonlight 
Shone on scenes of death and gore. 
From the village came a mother 
Searching for her darling boy, 

In all the world there lived no other 
To fill her anxious heart with joy. 

Where the men lay dead and dying; 

On the mother pressed her way, 
Scanning each ghastly face while sighing 
For the son that was out in the fray. 
Close beside a rippling stream 
There she saw a prostrate form; 

On the night air rang a piercing scream— 
It was her son, her long lost charm! 

In an instant down she fell 

Beside the limp unconscious lad, 
Tongues of sages could not tell 
The anguish in her heart she had. 


From a vial reviving potion 

’Tween his fevered lips she plies, 

Her heart then throbs with glad emotion 
For he opens wide his eyes. 

But her joy too soon was ended, 

The lad gave vent to groans of pain. 

The enemy’s dagger had descended 
’Pon his breast, thus help was vain. 
“Speak my son’’ the mother cried: 

“Hearken to your mother’s voice.’’ 

The sinking, gasping son replied, 

“Your presence makes my heart rejoice.’’ 

“And the precepts that you taught me ; 

On your knee long years ago. 

Safely through life’s cares have brought me 
Now I’m ready for Heaven’s shore.” 
When the dawning had begun, 

Y hen stars had vanished overhead, 

The mother and her valiant son 
We’re numbered with the silent dead. 


XVII. 


Splain Me Dat. 

Mv daughter Jane’s one thoughtsome chile, 
She libs up Norf in hightone style. 

Wants me up dar fer erwhile, 

Sez she’ll feed me till ahm fat, 

Buy me new shoes, silk cravat 
An’beaver hat. 

Ef she gwine do so mnch its qurr 
Why I’se bleege ter go so fur; 

Huccum ah cain stay right here? 

Ah would laik ter know right flat 
Wh’on’nt she he’p me whar ahm at? 

Splain me dat. 


XVIII 


Civil Rights. 

Rouse ye men of every land, 

Grant to all each cherished right! 

Give justice to thy fellowman, 

Be his color black or white. 

Why should the color of his kind 
Debar a man from civil claims ; 

If brain and character are combined 

To place him high ’mong honored names? 

As heartless knaves of every race, 

Alike should feel the law’s rough hand, 

The worthy man of colored face 

Should share the blessings of the land. 

An honest man though dark his hue, 

Should reap whatever his labor gains— 

Should any honest course pursue, 

Which talent and innate tact ordains. 

Allow to all an even chance 

While battling through this stormy life; 

Let thy fellowman advance 

With equal splendor in the strife. 


Give credit wheresoe’er ’tis due; 

Bid envy’s icy frown depart; 

Bid fellowship and charity true, 

Take place of prejudice in thy heart. 

Oh! vile oppressor bow thy head 

And read the words with bated breath, 
Which fearless Patrick Henry said— 
“Give me liberty or give me death!” 


XIX. 


Adversity. 

To drain adversity’s bitter cup 
Is but to suffer healing pain; 

Its purging fire may kindle up 

The talent which has dormant lain. 

By wind hard-pressed the school-boy’s kite 
Rises gently toward the sky: 

So master minds on pinions white 
Soar above their trials high. 

Adversity’s pain is most benign 

Though hard its cause to understand. 

Men’s deeds with radiant luster.shine 
When polished by the world's hard hand. 


XX. 

De Millon Patch. 

Holler ’cross de road dar, Jane, 

An’ tell dem Johnsing chilluns 
Ter dribe dey daddies ole gray mule 
Out ma patch ub millons! 

Wish I had some beans to spar’, 

I’d send er load clean fru her— 
Mek ace Janie, holler quick! 

You can’t hear me, doyer? 


XXI. 


Ingratitude. 

Oh! base ingratitude, thy poisonous 
fangs, 

Sendeth forth vile, soul-piercing 
pangs 

To the heart of him who hath been a 
friend, 

Upon whose aid thou hath been forced 
to depend. 


No gifts nor favors kind wilt thou 
confess, 

No words hath thou thy donor’s name to 
bless; 

Heartless, handless, and unseemly 
rude, 

Thou curseth the willing hand that 
giveth food. 


More cruel art thou than winter’s chilling 
blast, 

Forgetting all kind favors in the days that 
have passed— 


Oh! vile ingratitude thou art more 
unkind 

Than all other human faults com¬ 
bined. 


XXII. 


The Fox and the Crapes. 

A hungry fox gazed up a tree 

In which a bunch of sweet grapes hung; 

His eyes told of his inward glee, 

At choice repast the vines among. 

High in air old Reynard sprang, 

But failed to reach the precious prize; 

Urged on by hunger’s griping pang, 

Another spring he vainly tries. 

And when he’d jumped till nearly dead, 

Plied brain and muscle for an hour; 

The cunning fox walked off and said— 

“I don’t want the grapes, they’re sour. 

Just as the fox in sullen mood 

Denounced the fruit he couldn’t claim, 

So envious men with slander 

Seek to sully their neighbor’s name. 

After fruitless years are spent, 

Through want of tact or proper zeal; 

At those to scoff, they are content, 

Whose paths are crossed by fortune’s wheel 


Oh evil, narrow-hearted, man; 

What a wretched state art thine! 
Grasped by envy’s icy hand. 

To all things laudable, thou art blind. 


XXIII. 


The Auction Block. 

Down in a dungeon dark and damp 
A slave in anguish lay, 

Waiting with ever-increasing dread 
The shameful auction day. 

Cruel Fate had sealed his doom, 

Hope fell to blind dispair, 

And many sighs and heart-heaved wails 
Pierced the prison air. 

At night in soul-refreshing dreams 
His cabin home appeared, 

And all the old familiar scenes 
By natal ties endeared. 

His children romping on the floor 
In ecstasy he viewed, 

Only to wake at morn to have 
His agony renewed. 

The hour rolled round when he was forced 
By Fate’s relentless hand, 

To the auction block thence to be sold 
To a* distant Southern land. 


The voice of the auctioneer rang out 
In deep stentorian tones; 

All other sounds were hushed except 
The slave’s despairing groans. 

A Georgia planter tall and gaunt, 

The surging crowd amid, 

Strode forth with independent air 
And made the highest bid. 

* * * • * * * * 
Long, dark years rolled on through which 
The slave no news could hear, 

Telling of those he left at home, 

His lonely heart to cheer. 

When lo ! upon a morning bright 
While in the cotton field, 

He heard soul-stirring martial strains 
And gun’s defiant peal. 

’Twas General Sherman’s army, 
Marching proudly to the sea, 

And he followed it with rapture, 

On to blood-bought liberty. 


XXIV. 


The Traveler’s Return. 

A traveler on a mountain road, 

With eyes bedimmed with tears, 

Gazed on the home he had not seen 
Since nearly thirty years. 

Love unreturned, caused him to leave 
The country of his birth; 

Forsaking home ties, he became 
A wanderer o’er the earth. 

He had heard the cannon’s roar 
In many a foreign land, 

Had faced the yawning jaws of death 
On desert’s scorching sand. 

And thus he gazed on pastures green, 
The merry rippling rill, 

Upon the ivy-covered walls 
Of the crumbling village mill. 

Towering high above the grove. 

The churchspire shining bright, 

And the old red school-house on the hill 
Loomed clearly on his sight. 


He heard the merry tinkling bells 
Of flocks upon the hill. 

Each hallowed scene of childhood days 
Clung to his memory still. 

And as he neared his cottage home, 
His heart began to swell 

With an emotion wild, of which 
No mortal tongue could tell. 

Strange faces met him at the door 
With cool and formal stare; 

No friends to welcome his return, 

Nor kindred dear were there. 

He learned his father had been slain 
Upon the field of strife— 

Upon an ill-starred man-of-war 
His brother lost his life. 

Down beneath the spreading oaks 
His faltering steps were led, 

To the old neglected trampled spot 
Apportioned for the dead. 


Lying prostrate on the ground, 

Half-hid by creeping vine, 

He saw the moss-grown marble slab 
Which marked his mother’s shrine. 

Upon its proper base the tomb 
He carefully replaced, 

And read the rough-carved epitaph, 

By knavish hands defaced. 

With lightning speed his thoughts were borne 
Back through the lapse of years; 

The meditation caused his eyes 
To fill with blinding tears. 

He sighed for the boyhood days which knew 
A matchless mother’s love— 

That night their joyful hands were clasped 
In realms of light above. 


GLOSSARY 


Ah. 

I 

Feets... • 

. feet 

Ah’tn. . . 

. . .I’m 

Fer. 

for 

Ain .... 

.aren’t 

Foller... 


Aint.... 

. .aren't 

Friz. 

.frozen 

An’. 

.and 

Fru. 

.through 

A’r .. .. 

• air 

Frong. • 

.. throng 

Behime. 

.behind 

Fum. .. 

. . from 

Bleege . 

.... oblige 

Fur. 

• far 

’Bout • 

.. about 

Gal. 

.girl 

Bref- . .. 

..breath 

Gen’l’y 


Brusslem.Brussels 

Gib. 

.give 

Cain’. . • 

.. can’t 

Git. 

get 

Charmin’.charming 

Gorived 

.arrived 

Chilims 


Griebes. 


Clo’es . 

... clothes 

’Gusteded. disgusted 

’Cuz.. .. 


Grub .. 

. .. food 

’Cross. . 

.. .across 

Groun’ 


Dat ... 

.. that 

Gwine. . 

• • • going 

Dar .. 

. .there 

Gwy 

. going 

De. 

the 

Hangin’ 


Dey • • • 

. .they 

Ha’r . 


Def . .. 

..death 

He’p . . 


Dem... 


Highfalutin’... .flowery talk 

Eben. ■ 


’Hime .. 

. ..behind 

Ebry 


Holler. • 


Ef. 

.if 

Huccum 


Er.. 

a 

Instid • 


Erway. 


Jes. 

.just 





































































































































































GLOSSARY— Cont. 


Johnsing 

.... Johnson 

Sez. 

says 

Keer. 

care 

Spar'.... 


Bin. 

can 

’Splain. 


Laik. 

.like 

Steppin’ 


U’arnin’. 


Stronomums.astronomers 

Lef ! ' . 

.left 

Ter. 

.to 

L/Ookin’ 


Tote.... 

..carry 

’Bong- . . 


Trabel . 


Ma. 

my 

Trablin’ 


Meks. . .. 

. .makes 

Treadin’ 


Millons. . 

. . . melons 

Try in’ . 

... trying 

Mo’. 

. more 

Ub. 

of 

Moughty 


Udder . 


Movin’.. 

.. moving 

Urn.. •• 

• them 

Nabor . . 


Urf. 

earth 

Nebber . 


Visitin’ 

.visiting 

Novvhar 

.nowhere 

Wanter. 


Norf. • • • 

. north 

W’ar• .. 

.. wear 

’Nuff. ■ •. 

. .enough 

W’en 

. .. when 

Nuthin’. 

.nothing 

Whar. . . 


Ole. 

old 

Who’s . 


’Oman . 

.... woman 

Wh’ou’nt.why doesn’t 

Oughtn’ 

.ooghtn’t 

Wid.... 

.. with 

Qurr .. 

. .queer 

Wif. 

. .with 

’Roun’ . 


Yer. 

you 

Sartiny 


Y’own.. 



See’d.saw 




























































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